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After another few moments, she reached the tower. In an impossibly graceful move, she swung off the rope and onto the ladder. She climbed partway down, jumped the last eight feet to the ground, and then held up her arms in a Rocky pose.

The other wolves crossed the line just as quickly. There was a tense moment when one man looked down and almost lost his grip as he was passing over the fence, but he made it.

Then it was Jason’s turn.

He shot me a cocky grin as he pulled on his gloves. “See you on the other side.” He ascended the scaffold so quickly and lithely that it was almost possible to mistake him for one of the werewolves.

I glanced at the line and frowned. Was it my imagination or was the rope hanging a little bit lower? Before I could ask the woman behind me, Jason started across. All that time he spent working out definitely had benefits: He wasn’t quite as quick as the wolves, but most regs would never have been able to keep up with him—not unless they were professional athletes or members of Cirque du Soleil.

Even so, I didn’t blink until he reached the other side.

My turn.

I climbed the scaffold, slipping on my gloves as I went.

“It’s easy,” said one of the wolves with a small, slightly flirtatious smile as I reached the top. “Just hold on and don’t look down.”

“Right,” I bluffed. “Piece of cake.” I sat on the edge of the wall and grabbed the rope. It didn’t look like it was hanging low at all now. Just my imagination, I told myself as I hooked my ankles over and gracelessly half squirmed, half flopped off the concrete.

The others had made it look easy. It wasn’t. Within minutes, my arms were shaking and my legs were cramping.

I kept pushing myself. I could see the fence out of the corner of my eye. If I could reach it, I would be a third of the way across. Don’t think about how far it is to the tower, I told myself. Just concentrate on getting to the fence. Focus on that first third.

Almost there . . .

My muscles were on fire.

One hand over the other. That’s it. . . .

I made it past the fence and felt a ridiculous swell of pride that I hadn’t lost my grip and barbecued myself.

See? Not so bad.

The rope suddenly shook beneath me and dropped an inch.

I yelped and stopped moving.

“Mac!” Jason yelled my name as the line dropped again.

The bottom fell out of my stomach as I held on for dear life.

“Mac, you have to keep going! You have to get to the water tower. Now!”

Jason’s voice came from almost directly below me. I turned my head.

I had never seen him look so scared—not even in the car when it seemed certain we were both about to be killed. “The ladder is coming free—the tower’s too old. There’s no way to hold it. When the line goes down, it’ll hit the fence. You can’t be holding it when that happens.”

There was wire in the line: If I was still holding it when it fell—Oh, God. I’d complete the circuit. Even if I survived the fall, I’d be fried.

I started moving again. This time, my arms shook from fear as much as strain, but adrenaline masked the pain.

“You’re doing fine, Mackenzie.” Hank’s voice came from somewhere below, but I didn’t slow to look. “Just a little farther.”

The rope dropped another five inches—all at once—and a small scream escaped my throat.

“It’s all right,” said my father. “Just keep moving.” There was a note in his voice I had never heard before. It took me a second to realize it was fear.

I tried to move faster, but adrenaline could only do so much, and because the rope had dipped, I was now forcing myself up an incline.

As I neared the water tower, I could hear the groan of metal. It sounded like the ladder was peeling away bolt by bolt. I didn’t dare look to see how far I had left to go.

Suddenly, strong arms grabbed me and pulled me off the rope. I expected Jason and was dumbstruck as I started into my father’s blue eyes.

“You okay?”

I managed a nod as we raced down the ladder.

Jason swept me into a hug as soon as my shoes touched the ground. I let him hold me for a few seconds and then gently pushed him away. “I’m okay, Jason, I’m fine.” I was superconscious of the group of ultratough werewolves standing a few feet away, and I didn’t want Hank to think that bringing me had been a mistake, that I’d fall apart every time there was trouble.

“The hug was to reassure myself, actually,” said Jason.

I was about to retort when Eve shouted to get back. Grabbing Jason’s hand, I ran from the tower.

With the tortured sound of twisting metal, the ladder gave way and crashed to the ground where we had just been standing.

I glanced at the fence. Sparks lit the night where the cable had become tangled in the wire.

Now there was no way out except through the main gate.

Eve turned to Hank. “Do you think they’ll send someone to check?”

He nodded. “Not right away—they’ll probably assume an animal got caught—but eventually.” He drew two of the wolves aside. “Stay here and watch the fence. If anyone shows up, keep them from contacting the rest of the camp and raising the alarm.”

“Without killing them,” added Jason.

Hank shot him the kind of look that said he might be tempted to do some killing of his own. “Without killing them—if it can be helped.”

Jason frowned but thankfully didn’t push. The last thing we needed was for my father to lose his temper and leave us at the fence with a couple of werewolf babysitters.

Eve retrieved one of the black bags. “You heard him,” she said as she unzipped the top flap and began handing out guns and magazines. “Bullets are a last resort. Don’t shoot unless you have to or unless someone has an HFD.”

Jason reached for a gun and she hesitated. She glanced at Hank. Only after he nodded did she hand one over.

“Smith and Wesson. Forty caliber.” Jason turned the gun over in his hands. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I figured werewolves would pack something bigger.”

“Not when we’re hunting regs,” said one of the other wolves.

Maybe it was my imagination, but Jason seemed to pale slightly. Without further comment, he loaded the magazine Eve handed him and then tucked the gun into the back of his waistband.

“Here,” she said, passing him the toolkit and device for testing the HFDs. “I went back to the greenhouse and snagged these before I left last night.”

She turned to me. “Gun?”

I shook my head. I knew how to shoot—I couldn’t count the number of times Jason had dragged me to the shooting range to act as a buffer between him and his father—but I was scared of what I might do if I was let loose in Thornhill with a gun—especially if Sinclair had hurt Kyle and Dex or done anything else to Serena.

I glanced in the direction of the sanatorium and pressed my nails into my palm, pressed them so hard I broke the skin.

No, me loose in Thornhill with a gun would not be a good idea.

To my surprise, Eve didn’t take one, either. “First thing we have to do is hit the laundry building,” she said as she tossed the bag to one of the wolves staying behind. “We’re not going to blend in dressed like this.”

Hank shouldered the other backpack and began giving orders. I tried to pay attention, but the lights from the camp kept pulling my gaze. Please be all right, I prayed. We’re coming. Just hang on a little while longer.

I tuned back in just as Hank finished. It didn’t matter: I already knew my part in the plan.